


A Little Perfect

by xxforeyes



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Louis Proposes, M/M, harry think it's perfect
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-15
Updated: 2015-09-15
Packaged: 2018-04-20 22:01:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4803809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxforeyes/pseuds/xxforeyes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“And?” he whispers.</p>
<p>“I want this, Haz. Us. This incredible life that I’ve found myself living—with you. I want to be able to hold you when I want. I want to be able to goof around the stage with you and be us without constantly looking to the side for an okay signal. And I know that it’s not the time yet. And I know we’ll be going through more shit before this fuckfest is over but I just know that I want all of it. 5, 10—shit, Haz—I’ll still want this 40 years from now. You, 40 years from now.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little Perfect

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr as xxforeyes :)

He woke up and found himself alone in bed. He checked the clock on his bedside table and it read—3:04 AM.

“Louis?” he said as he slowly got up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. 

“I’m out here, love” 

He walks barefoot to their balcony and is stopped in his tracks. Louis is standing with his back to him, probably smoking a cigarette. Even after all this time, Harry still sometimes gets taken aback by how beautiful Louis is. How soft and golden he looks even in just a little bit of moonlight. How his body looked so delicate from afar but Harry knows from years of running his hands all over his skin that underneath all that was a quiet strength. A clandestine power that makes Harry’s blood sing.

“Did I wake you up babe?” Louis asks as he finally turns around and faces him, smoke slowly coming out of his mouth.

Harry is an art lover. He loves the way it always says something without really saying anything. And really, some things don’t need words. Some things, like the way the moonlight casts shadows on Louis’ cheekbones, can never be defined in just words.

“No. Don’t worry about it.” He said as he slowly made his way to Louis’ side. 

“Why are you up, Lou?” he asks as he lays his head on Louis’ shoulder.

Louis instinctively starts running his hands through Harry’s hair, “Just thinking” he eventually says.

“About what?”

“Us. The lads. The future. Now.” Harry straightens up and looks at his boy—this man—that has been his home for 5 years, cups his face and makes Louis face him.

“And?” he whispers.

“I want this, Haz. Us. This incredible life that I’ve found myself living—with you. I want to be able to hold you when I want. I want to be able to goof around the stage with you and be us without constantly looking to the side for an okay signal. And I know that it’s not the time yet. And I know we’ll be going through more shit before this fuckfest is over but I just know that I want all of it. 5, 10—shit, Haz—I’ll still want this 40 years from now. You, 40 years from now.”

Harry knows Louis isn’t finished. He knows that when he gets worked up like this and rambles on, that whatever it is has been on his mind for quite a while. So Harry smiles, slides his hand down Louis’ arm and intertwines their fingers. A silent— _I’m here, love. Go on. I’m listening_.

Louis smiles back and Harry feels warm because, god, even at night Louis looks like the sun.

“I guess what I’m actually trying to say is—fuck, i’m really shit at this, aren’t I?” he laughs. “Alright! The thing is, I’d really like that with you Harry. I want movie nights under our covers, going around the world with you and the lads, walks in the park, more of our love inked on our skin—god, i’ll even take more shit like that ‘baby daddy’ bullshit they’ve come up with—if it means I get to have you for waffles on Sunday’s. I’ll go through these 5 years all over again, without changing anything, if you say you’ll marry me Styles.”

_Well fuck_. Is all Harry can think because here is the love of his life, asking him if he would like to marry him. As if he could ever deny Louis anything. As if he hasn’t been wanting this since they moved to London and started living together. As if the anchor, the ship and the rose inked on his skin wasn’t permanent. 

“Yes!” Harry almost screams. Like it could have been anything other but a resounding—”Fuck yes!” and Louis’ smile gets impossibly bigger.

He practically jumps on top of Louis in his hurry to get closer—need to get closer. He wraps his arms around him and feels more than sees the tears they both have running down their faces. And when they finally fall into bed together, Harry thinks it’s all a little perfect. Just them. No over the top gesture. No blown up proposal on a billboard. Just Louis asking Harry for forever. For always. And  _yes_ , Harry thinks as he slowly drifts to sleep in Louis’ arms— _yes, of course, always._


End file.
